


take my hand to feel the pull

by liginamite



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Pre-Series, Red Cricket - Freeform, Red Cricket Week, five times fic, one true love, only time will tell, will i ever write anything on here besides ouat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-13
Updated: 2013-07-13
Packaged: 2017-12-20 03:14:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/882275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liginamite/pseuds/liginamite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“i won’t forget you, jiminy.” she looks down at him, and he up at her as the clouds reach the bannister. “even if i forget everything else in this world, even if i forget your name, i won’t forget you.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	take my hand to feel the pull

**Author's Note:**

> this story, for some odd reason, demanded to be written in all lowercase. weirdest thing. every time i tried to write it properly, it just shifted back. oh well! written for the first day of Red Cricket Week over on tumblr! the title is from a Decemberists song. 
> 
> the prompt was by the lovely acoupletshort on tumblr, and it was: "four times the fates conspired against them, and one time everything worked out perfectly." <3
> 
> EDIT: fixed the lowercase, it was an eyesore.

i. 

“Oh my god.” 

The man’s eyes are closed and his expression is strained and Ruby is pretty sure that her face is as red as her name as she hurries to wipe the coffee off his shirt front. She should have been paying more attention, she thinks to herself as the napkins soak up hot and wet into her skin. It burns, but it’s residual; he had gotten the full blast of black with sugar all down his chest. “Oh my god, I am. So sorry, Dr. Hopper. I wasn’t looking where I was going--”

“It’s alright, Miss Lucas,” he manages finally, and even though his eyes are watering a little he still smiles at her. Cordial, even when she’d just burned him from neck to navel. Of course. His fingers briefly close over hers and strangely, her heart leaps, but then he’s carefully tugging some of the napkins out of her hands and pressing a little harder just under his collar. “It’s not that bad.”

She almost grins back, and for a moment there’s a pause in time itself as the two of them stare at each other. She’s never really spoken to the kindly psychiatrist before, but now she’s noticed that his eyes are the loveliest shade of blue.

And then Granny is there, wrinkled old hands pushing Ruby aside with just enough care that she doesn’t fall over. Like that, the spell is broken, and Ruby blinks.

“Girl, you need to pay more attention,” Granny chastises, helping Dr. Hopper clean off the rest of his jacket, and Ruby looks between the two of them before huffing and leaning down to pick up the shattered remains of the mug.

“Sorry, granny,” she says stiffly, holding one of the larger pieces between her thumb and forefinger, and she carefully avoids Dr. Hopper’s eyes as she carries the mess to the back, by the kitchen. By the time she comes back up front, Dr. Hopper has already left for his office, and the incident fades by the end of the day.

ii.

There’s no one else on the pier, Ruby’s sneakers hitting the wood the only sound besides the waves slapping against the shore. It’s early enough that nobody is out yet, and her morning jog is uninterrupted. The air is salty on her nose, and she likes it like this. Quiet, alone. The pier is nice this time of morning.

Her second lap around, she sees a figure off in the distance, and when she squints she can just make out the silhouette of a man and a dog dragging him along. Only one person besides her would be out so early in the morning, and she quickens her pace slightly.

Sure enough, Dr. Hopper is trailing after his dalmatian, umbrella in one hand and leash in the other. The sky is clear, but Ruby knows that he carries the umbrella along with him everywhere. A gift from Marco, she remembers suddenly, and almost laughs. 

“Good morning!” she calls, and he turns, his expression shifting from neutral to delight.

“Good morning, Miss Lucas,” he calls, and she laughs despite herself, finally slowing down to fall in step with him. Pongo is going crazy, shoving his wet nose at Ruby’s hand with fervor. She rubs him behind the ears and his tail thwaps against Dr. Hopper’s leg.

“Ruby, if you want,” she gently corrects, cooing at the dog, and Dr. Hopper nods, his grip on the leash tightening as Pongo jumps up eagerly to lick at Ruby’s face.

“Ruby,” he repeats, testing it out, and he smiles. “What are you doing out so early, Ruby?” 

“Going for a run.” She straightens out again, stretching her arms over her head. “Almost done, though. I come out here all the time ‘round the morning. It’s nice.” She looks out at the waves, before turning back. “I assume you’re walking the dog,” she jokes, and he laughs. 

“I’d say he’s walking me is more accurate,” he replies, his grip tightening again as Pongo struggles to jump up and scratch his dirty paws all over her shirt. She scratches his ears again and he barks happily. Dr. Hopper’s got a soft look on his face as he watches the two of them, and Ruby feels that same flutter again.

And just as he opens his mouth to speak, a crack explodes across the pier and a wave of water splashes over the three of them, the ocean hitting the rocks hard enough to propel all the way onto them.

Ruby lets out a shriek as the cold water hits, dancing away like a maniac, and Dr. Hopper is sputtering, shaking his head wildly to get the salty water out of his eyes. Pongo’s gone mad, jumping between the two of them. Ruby pushes sopping wet hair out of her eyes and glares at the ocean like she could personally drain it.

“Great,” she says angrily, trying to wring out her shirt. Dr. Hopper looks a little baffled, his curls sticking to his forehead. “Great. Awesome. I have work in half an hour. Fantastic.” She looks up at Dr. Hopper and shrugs, feeling like a drowned rat. “I’m sorry, I need to run home and take a shower,” she says, truly meaning the apology, but he just raises the hand still gripping his umbrella and shakes his head.

“It’s all right,” he says, and runs a hand through his hair. “Perhaps I’ll see you later.” He looks at the umbrella, and a grin settles across his face. “A lot of good this did,” he says, gesturing with it, and Ruby laughs as she takes off down the pier. She’s yelled at by Granny for being late, and as she finds out later, Dr. Hopper skips his morning coffee in lieu of his own shower.

iii.

“It’s. Hmm.” Ruby has to think about it. She’s on her break, legs crossed and foot wiggling as she nurses a cup of Dr. Pepper. In a fun twist, Dr. Hopper is sitting across from her, his jacket spread across the back of his chair, and his eyebrows are raised over his mug of hot chocolate. She had plopped down in front of him, a question that had been burning her lips finally lighting. “It’s as if I don’t fit here, you know? like. I should be out there having awesome adventures and meeting celebrities, doing cool stuff. Not serving coffee every day from seven to ten.” She pauses. “Not that I don’t like serving you coffee.”

“No, I understand,” he assures, lowering his mug. “It’s called ‘wanderlust,’” he says, and Ruby raises a suggestive eyebrow. “No, I. Hey.” He’s trying to sound stern, but there’s laughter in his voice. “It means that you have a craving for travel. You want to go out and explore the world, you don’t feel quite like you belong. As you said.” 

She blinks for a second, and then smiles widely. “So there _is_ a word for it.”

He nods. “We all get a feeling once in awhile. Some want to travel, some feel the uncanny idea that we’ve been places that we never actually have, sometimes we experience deja vu. It’s actually quite common.” His eyes are distant, for just a moment, and then he returns. Ruby taps a finger against her glass before leaning back and stretching one arm around the back of her chair.

“What about you?” she asks, curious, and he scoffs. It sounds like it’s directed more at himself than at her. 

“Me? No. I. Not often,” he amends, and Ruby feels mischievous, biting her lower lip and grinning.

“Come on, Dr. Hopper. You totally feel wanderlust.”

He chuckles, and leans back, his hands still wrapped around his mug. “No, not quite. I’m very firmly stuck here in Storybrooke, Maine, heart and soul alike.” She shakes her head, laughing, and with the way he’s looking at her, she feels almost flustered. To cover it, she nudges him again. 

“C'mon,” she urges, “ever feel anything weird? deja vu?”

There’s that look on his face, something open and yet closed off all at once. He sets his mug down entirely, though he doesn’t remove his hands. He seems to be thinking it over. Finally, he speaks.

“It’s just...” he hesitates for a long moment, clearly trying to work around his thoughts. “I feel as though... I know you.”

Ruby stares at him, confused, her smile fading. That wasn’t the answer she had expected. “you do know me, Dr. Hopper. We’ve known each other for as long as I can remember. Since I was a little girl.”

He shakes his head. 

“No, I. It’s different. It’s very different, and it’s something I can’t. I can’t explain it. Do you understand?” His eyes are wide, imploring. Ruby looks around, uncertain. Perhaps, she thinks. Perhaps I do. But the words get caught in her throat. So many insinuations come with the idea that they’ve known each other before this, and finally they die in her throat.

“Maybe,” is what she says instead, and for a split second, his face falls. And then he collects himself again, a professional, and nods. “Of course,” he replies, but it’s almost as if to himself. “I. Yes. I’m sorry, Miss Lucas--Ruby, if I upset you.”

No, she means to say, means to stop him, to protest, no, you didn’t upset me, just the opposite, I understand--

But then the mayor is walking in, ignoring Ruby’s presence entirely, her demands about her son turning Dr. Hopper’s attention to her. Ruby stands, only for a moment, before making her way back to the counter. Dr. Hopper doesn’t ask her again, and by the end of the week, again, it fades from her memory entirely. 

iv.

The wind is howling around them, angry and ripping pieces of stone off the sides of the castle. Jiminy is tiny in her palm, little wings buzzing frantically but never taking off, and Red looks off in the distance, at the roiling clouds that are overtaking the horizon. Jiminy’s nerves are wracked, and she can feel it on her skin. He looks up at her with his beady black eyes.

“I'm sorry,” he says quietly, after a moment, and Red looks down at him, confused. He looks off, out the window, and his wings twitch nervously again, tiny feet scraping nervously. She lifts him a little, enough that she doesn’t have to crane her neck to talk.

“For what?” 

He shifts from foot to foot, wringing his hands before finally answering, trepidation in his voice, “I'm sorry that... This is happening now, here. That I’m the only company you can keep in our final moments, I suppose.” Were he a man, Red thinks that he might have a sad smile, the corners of his eyes crinkled with old, worn regret. She wonders if he had freckles, what color his hair might have been. “you deserve more than me.”

She smiles then, soft and loving. 

“I can think of no better company to hold in these last moments than you, Jiminy Cricket.” He chirps softly in embarrassment, but she just looks back out, the wind whipping her hair around her face and shoulders. “There is no one I would rather face oblivion with, really. I trust you’ll guide me for whatever comes, no matter what it is.”

He hops forward, his little hand coming to rest on her thumb, and he looks up at her with an expression nothing short of earnest. His wings flutter again.

“I can assure you,” he says, and his voice is ever soft. “I will always be there to guide you, my friend. Just as you have done for me.”

She smiles down at him and lifts her hand, pressing a kiss to the top of his tiny head. He fumbles, but then straightens his jacket and puffs out a ruffled little breath. The clouds are almost upon them, sour in her nose, and as they both watch on, red speaks again, her voice solemn.

“I won’t forget you, Jiminy.” she looks down at him, and he up at her as the clouds reach the bannister. “Even if I forget everything else in this world, even if I forget your name, I won’t forget you.”

If he had an answer, she would never know.

X.

New Year’s parties have always been Ruby’s thing, for as long as she can remember. The laughter, the sharp burn of alcohol, treats all lined up in a row like little soldiers across the surface of the inn’s counter, but tonight she finds herself outside, rather than mingling with the guests still trickling in. She can’t help but shake the feeling that, despite having lived in Storybrooke her entire life, this is the first time she can remember having actually attended a party here before. Maybe it’s just nerves. 

“Hello, Ruby!” 

A cheerful voice shocks her and she whirls around, coming face to face with Dr. Hopper, his cheeks and nose rosy with the cold. He steps back, looking frightfully upset that he’d startled her, and he immediately throws his hands up in a sign of familiarity. His scarf is wrapped all the way up to just under his chin. 

“Oh, god, Dr. Hopper,” she gasps, patting her chest. “You scared the hell out of me.”

“I’m, oh, jeez, I’m sorry,” he says, and the red of his cheeks grows a little brighter. Ruby almost laughs, then, her heart fluttering slowly back to normal (or at least, as she chooses to believe) and she reaches out, tugging at the tassels of his scarf. She knows it to be his favorite, green and orange and thickly knitted by her own grandmother. Granny had gone on a knitting stint several years ago, and Ruby hadn’t realized he’d kept it. She had one of her own, but she only wore the matching red hat lately, its color scarlet as an apple.

“It’s alright,” she says, and adds, “Granny’ll be happy to know you kept her Christmas gift.”

He tilts his head, confusion in his eyes, before he realizes her meaning and chuckles. “Yes, I really did appreciate it when I walked outside for the party tonight and Jack Frost nearly bit my nose right off.” Ruby laughs as well, and her arm drops to her side. Dr. Hopper has such a personable feel about him, as if you could trust him with anything and know that he’ll keep it locked tight and safe, forever, no matter the cost. He glances towards the inn, his breath casting little white clouds in the air. 

“Have you been here long?” she asks after a moment, shoving her hands into her pockets, and he looks over at her, that inquisitive look that he gets sometimes in his expression. It would be piercing if he weren’t so gentle. Instead, it looks as though he already knew everything about you, but allowed you to tell him yourself.

“Only for a while, as I’d planned,” he admits. “I prefer walks on New Year's Eve, to be honest. I like to reflect.” he chuckles again, looking embarrassed. “I suppose that’s a little old-fashioned.”

“i like it,” Ruby replies, throwing him a smile. “even if it is a little old-fashioned.” 

He laughs, a little brighter this time, and tilts his head up towards the stars. She looks too. The moon is hidden by a stray cloud, but beyond several others the night sky is clear, each star twinkling down at them. He continues to stare at them, before finally he looks back down, directly at her, and bites his lip. He hesitates for a moment, and then extends his gloved hand, shrugging a little into his scarf. 

“Would you like to accompany me?”

There is a moment of quiet between them. Finally, Ruby puts her hand in his, feelings the warmth seeping into her gloves, and she pulls a little closer, a fluttering in her stomach.

“It would be my pleasure, Dr. Hopper.”

He smiles, and something stirs in Ruby’s chest, a warmth that settles like hot chocolate despite the cold, like the crisp smell of leaves in the fall, the chirping of crickets in the air and all that accompanies that heavy, comforting solitude. He gently squeezes her hand, and Ruby senses an inexplicable feeling of home.

“Actually, you can just call me Archie.”


End file.
